


Bolstering and Bombing

by ReneeoftheStars



Series: Teyla Marin and Gida Tiatkin [7]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: battle descriptions, death mentions, force abilities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 16:06:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13275033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReneeoftheStars/pseuds/ReneeoftheStars
Summary: What was supposed to be a standard op has turned into an increasingly frantic fight for survival for the clones of Chimera Company. Waiting on the delivery of a prototype weapon that might not arrive in time, Captain Mark and his men feel themselves beginning to slip into defeat - until the tide unexpectedly turns.





	Bolstering and Bombing

**Author's Note:**

> Written for tumblr blog finish-the-clone-wars' writing Wednesday prompt: Ace Up Your Sleeve

Blasterfire screamed all around him as Mark hurled himself over the low wall. He hunkered down and reloaded, nodding curtly to the trooper he’d landed next to. “How are we doing back here?”

“Not good, Captain,” came Scout’s terse reply. “A transport full of civies was gunned down and crashed into our last AT-TE.”

“What the hell were civilians doing on a transport?” Mark spat, rising slightly to send a volley of narrow blaster bolts at the oncoming Separatist droids. “They had orders to stay at the compound.”

“Apparently civies don’t take orders well,” Scout said wryly.

“Where’s the General?”

“Organizing troops from the command camp. She’s the one who ordered you to pull back.”

“And the Commander?”

“Nothing yet. Comms cut out once they crossed the equator. We don’t know their status. I _told_ Riggs that he needed to boost the ships’ comm system.”

“We’ll look into it later.”

“The plan’s still in place, then?”

Mark ground his teeth together. Putting a smoking hole through a droid’s head in the distance, he responded, “Unless the General says otherwise.”

The plan still made him uneasy. The Jedi Commander had led a handful of clones to retrieve a prototype weapon being developed by scientists in the southern hemisphere of the planet, Protobranch. The electro-proton bomb was still in its early stages, and had yet to go through a practical test. The hope was to use the device to incapacitate the droids, temporarily deactivating them.

While waiting for the team to return, the rest of Chimera Company held the capital city against droid attacks. But their intel had been wrong; they were outnumbered, and what was supposed to be a basic fortifying op turned into a mad scramble to hold their position.

It infuriated Mark. He didn’t know who was to blame, but he wished he could give them a good smack. This was war, and the new troops needed to understand that things got bad…but not this soon.

He wondered briefly if their new General was at fault. She was new to command, and had already displayed some qualities that made Mark think she was too soft to lead in a war. Maybe she had sent her Padawan to find the bomb because she knew their situation was hopeless, and even a fleeting chance was better than nothing. The thought sent a tremor of dread through him.

Together with dozens of their brothers, Mark and Scout slowly backed up towards the city, taking cover behind ruined transports and smoldering buildings as the droids pressed their advantage.

Droids swarmed over the perimeter wall, their metal-plated faces unfeeling as their counterparts got picked off by blaster bolts. They pushed forward, their heavy clanking steps sending ripples of fear through the ranks of the clones. Mark could feel the tension, could practically hear panic beginning to grip them. Most of these troopers were shinies, and this was their introduction to the war; an onslaught of enemies that wouldn’t stop pursuing them, that couldn’t be perturbed, all while their brothers screamed and died all around them. It felt as though a hand were squeezing around Mark’s heart as the droids began to overwhelm them. He tossed his 15x aside and drew his primary blaster, barely managing to shoot a trio of droids down as they converged on him.

He let loose a stream of curses as he fired. They were all going to die. The clones would cut them down, tramping over their bodies as they moved into the heart of the city and killed the refugees that hid there. The plan had failed, and this was the price they would all pay.

Inexplicably, a rush of determination swelled in his chest. _No_. _It won’t end like this_. His tired muscles seemed to regain their strength, he caught his breath, his focus cleared as all the grief and fear fell away. _We_ will _win!_

Around him, other troopers seemed similarly bolstered. The retreating clones stopped in their tracks and stood their ground. Blasterfire streamed from the weapons with a new intensity, and his brothers roared in defiance.

Bellowing, Mark charged forward, his brothers hot on his heels, and together they plunged into the enemy ranks and cut down droid after droid, hurling grenades and charges. The droids didn’t seem to know what to make of the sudden change, and hesitated just long enough that the clones dismantled a good chunk of the closest batch. Soon, the only droids that remained in firing range stood beyond the perimeter wall.

Blood pounding in his ears, Mark almost didn’t hear the comm in his helmet crackle to life. A young girl’s voice called in his ear, “Chimera Company, this is Commander Tiatkin. We’re less than a click away. Brace yourselves for impact.”

Beside him, Scout whooped.

“All units! Fall back to the second boundary!” Mark barked. “Our surprise delivery for the clankers is here.”

The clones streamed back to a series of collapsed walkways, though some seemed unwilling to retreat; Mark had to seize Scout’s arm and drag him backwards, the man protesting the whole time. “We can’t run now! We’ve got this!”

“We’re not running,” Mark grated. “Get it together.” But he knew what Scout meant. Mark felt like he could take on the whole damn Separatist Army by himself. The thought gave him pause; he’d always considered himself a practical man. But the thought that he could – that he was physically, actually _able_ – to go against every Separatist droid made him…wary.

“Incomin’, boys!” a voice yelled over the comms. Mark recognized Jolt’s jittery excitement as three fighters roared overhead. _Only three…Commander Tiatkin left with six troopers_.

Cheers rose up from the men as the ships quickly closed the distance to the oncoming droids. The bomber flanking the Commander’s right side released a long cylinder from its hold, and the weapon began to plummet towards the wave of droids below.

“It’s away!”

“Punch it!” the Commander yelled.

The three broke off their run and made a beeline for the city, pushing their thrusters as fast as the ships would allow. They’d just cleared the central city’s airspace when a small explosion rocked the droid forces. Almost immediately, a sparking ball of blue electromagnetic energy bubbled up and engulfed the droids. The interference caused Mark’s comm to go haywire, and he ripped off his helmet to escape the sound.

After a moment, everything was quiet. Mark took out his macrobinoculars and peered out past the wall. Most of the droid army was…destroyed.

Scout whistled. “That’s one hell of a droid popper. No wonder Jolt was so excited.”

Another trooper – Kory, if Mark recalled correctly – holstered his blaster. “Wasn’t that thing just supposed to incapacitate ‘em?”

“Keep your blaster out, trooper,” Mark snapped. “They’re not all gone.” He paused, wiping sweat from his shaved head and scratching at his beard. “But yeah. It was just supposed to knock them out. Must be more powerful than those scientists thought.”

Mark called together two of the squad leaders and gave them orders to take their men and scout out any remaining droids. “No sense in letting a stray wander in.” Once they’d saluted and left, Mark turned and made his way into the heart of the city, clapping his brothers on the back as he went. Scout stayed back to help collect the bodies.

The command center was buzzing with activity. Apparently the local population of Bivalls had deemed it safe to leave the main compound, and had poured out into the streets, chatting excitedly. Mark glared at one who approached him; the flustered being hurried out of his way.

Just outside the compound lay the cots of the makeshift infirmary. Mark approached the head medic, who hardly glanced up at his approach.

“Not as bad as it could have been,” Lode stated, applying bacta to a soldier’s wound. “I expected worse than this.”

Mark scowled and went to reply, but was interrupted by the arrival of Riggs and Jolt, the two clones that had brought the bomb back.

Jolt’s eyes were wild, his yellow hair spiked up and messy from his helmet. “Did you see that!” he crowed. “Those scientists told us that the most we could hope for was disabling! They’re gonna wanna run more tests, for sure! They might be able to make it even _bigger_! That EMP field was beautiful!” He threw back his head and cackled.

Riggs punched him on the arm. “Not now, you lunatic.” He kept his voice low, but Mark could see that he was still high on adrenaline too. The left half of his face bore horrible scars from a speeder explosion, and even though his left eye was permanently half-closed, he still appeared incredibly alert. “The General’s close.”

At the center of the base, Mark spied the Jedi, and he frowned. Instead of standing and speaking with the troopers or organizing their resources, she was sitting cross-legged on the ground. Her eyes were shut, and for a livid moment, Mark thought she was sleeping.

“What about what she did, eh?” Jolt said excitedly. “That was fantastic, I haven’t felt this good after combat in ages.”

Mark tore his eyes away from the General. “What are you on about?”

“You got that rush, right? That moment when you lost all your fear, you felt stronger than ever? That you just _knew_ we would win?”

Mark stared at the trooper. “How…how did you know?”

“We all felt it. That was all her. General Marin,” Riggs explained. “Commander Tiatkin explained it a bit on our approach. It’s called Battle Meditation. Basically, she used the Force to give us a boost. Made us sure we could do it, so we wouldn’t retreat and lose our position. Bolstered us just enough that we’d make a – sir?”

Mark’s hands had curled into fists at his sides. He felt his nostrils flare as his gaze fixed on the serene-looking General. Yes, he still felt the rush of adrenaline, the certainty. He felt strong and able, and with that confidence, he strode past the troopers and made for the Jedi, despite the calls of Lode and Riggs.

His mind was the only thing he had. The only thing he could have complete control of and never lose. He weighed his options carefully, he rationalized everything. And now this Jedi presumed to invade him, override his own will and reasoning? He might get court-martialed, but he could not just let her actions go uncontested.

General Marin seemed to know he was coming. She was just getting to her feet as Mark stormed up to her and stopped short. They were almost of a height, and Mark stood there, seething. The Jedi looked drained, he noted distantly. Her eyelids drooped somewhat, and her permanent smile seemed to have finally slipped away.

At last, the General spoke. “You are angry, Captain. Why?”

“Permission to speak freely, sir?” he grated.

“Always, Captain.”

“You stay out of my head,” he spat. “You stay out of my men’s heads. They may be new soldiers, but we would never break, we would never run. And you forcing us to stay and fight like that –”

“I would never force you or your men to do something needlessly dangerous –” Marin protested.

“We charged headfirst into enemy lines! Because we all thought we were invincible! Because we thought we could!”

“And you did.” A frown creased the Jedi’s face. “I saw what was happening, Captain Mark, and I determined that your men could succeed. I would never sacrifice your lives on some hopeless endeavor.”

“Then don’t use your kriffing Force powers on us again!”

“Hey!” The young Twi’lek Commander had come up behind Mark. She planted her hands on her hips. “You can’t talk to her like that!”

Marin held up her hand. “It’s alright, Gida.”

“But, Master –”

“Enough.”

The young Jedi fell silent, though she glared at Mark – a look which he returned.

General Marin looked thoughtful, which confused the Captain. “I appreciate you brining your concerns to my attention, Captain Mark,” she said. “You are right: I should not have influenced you and your men’s decisions today.”

“But you were helping them!” Commander Tiatkin burst out indignantly.

“I thought I was. But I was blind to the possibility that I may endanger them as well.” She directed her attention back to Mark. “I apologize for my actions, Captain. I do hope that we can work to have better dialogue between us, so that we may understand each other a little better.”

It was a more diplomatic response than the soldier had been expecting. Mark nodded begrudgingly. “Yes, sir.”

General Marin bowed deeply to Mark, so that when she walked away to consult with two other officers, he was left completely bewildered. He turned around… only to see the Twi’lek girl staring at him, arms crossed.

A peculiar expression occupied her face. It seemed to be some strange mix of pity, understanding, irritation, and…admiration?

“What is it? Commander,” he added gruffly.

She seemed to realize that her expressions betrayed her. She cast a quick downwards glance, as though she were a child caught in the act of something. Her eyes closed briefly, as though she was blocking something out, and once she’d let out a quick sigh, she met his gaze.

“I also promise you, Captain, that I won’t go inside your head.”

Mark stared down at the small Jedi. “I…thank you, Commander.”

Mimicking her Master, Tiatkin bowed before moving off. Mark stood rooted to the spot, staring after the Jedi. He’d heard of other Generals who were not so receptive to criticism of any kind, much less from their subordinates. Slowly, he made his way back to his brothers at the infirmary. Maybe…maybe he _could_ get along with the Marin and Tiatkin. Eventually.

**Author's Note:**

> The electro-proton bomb was introduced in "The Zillo Beast" episode of the Clone Wars. I borrowed it for the story with the idea that originally it wasn't supposed to be as destructive as it ended up being. I imagine its original design was just to be a droid popper with a larger radius. Instead, they realized it had the potential to be something much more potent. 
> 
> This takes place sometime within the first few months of the Clone Wars.


End file.
